With apologies to a bitter buck

I believe there is an ancient Iowan proverb that goes as such: “There are two types of people: those who have hit a deer and those who haven’t yet.”

I scoffed at that years ago. Eighteen year old me thought my intellect was well beyond that of Bambi’s kinsfolk. Alas, I was proven wrong and a mirror was lost. So be. I had a couple of vehicular oopsies with deer in the years following but nothing more major than some gnarly dents and a sickly headlight.

Fast forward to Monday evening. I had gone to visit family in the evening and needed to head home. I’m a cautious driver and I don’t think I even need to describe what these roads can be like after snow and ice. But as luck would have it, the roads actually seemed better than they were on the way over. It seemed like smooth sailing.

Ten minutes into my drive and for a blinking second, out of nowhere, a presence entered my line of sight. Just in the corner of my headlight I caught a glimpse of one hulking, cornfed reindeer reject. I froze. I felt absolutely helpless. There was no avoiding this poor creature. Me, my car and this buck were all about to play a wonderful game with fate.

Now when I tell this story I get asked about how big the antlers were but, honestly, I never even paid attention to that. I focused right on its eyes. It was looking right at me. Not in the typical “deer in the headlights” manner. No, no, no. That beautiful beast of the woods locked eyes with me in an intense glare of fiery unforgiveness.

Smash. The hood crumpled, plastic fixtures shattered and the radiator bid thee farewell.

I knew the drill. I flipped on the hazards, exited the roadway and uttered words that Sarah probably won’t let me get away with. Phone calls were made and a rescue mission was successfully completed.

But Garnet, my beloved car, is currently out of commission. That little maroon Ford belonged to my grandpa since it first came off the lot and it came into my command last fall. I’m really grateful for that car and it’s a vital part of my work and personal life. Now she awaits surgery. Luckily the damage wasn’t as rough as it could have been as far as functionality is concerned. Some structural repairs and a new radiator should make her mobile. The hood is what took the brunt of the buck. On the bright side, I could take it off and sell it as either scrap metal or modern art.

I’m no stranger to car troubles. My family swears that every vehicle I touch becomes cursed and I can’t provide any evidence to disprove them. So, with experience comes routine. Per usual, I visit my grandpa and he graciously hands me the key to the designated ‘family loaner’ — our old, purple family van that some passionately refer to as Barney.

Barney and I go way back. That van was the chariot to countless road trips and the vehicle that I drove at the ripe age of fourteen while my grandpa was teaching me how to drive. Heck, Barney was even the first thing that I ever hit while operating a vehicle (Maybe there’s a pattern here). However, Barney’s best and worst trait is that he is very well travelled. There are memories in there but with that also comes age. That van is the equivalent of the senior officer you see in every cop movie that is only two days from retirement.

So now you’re caught up. I’m back behind the wheel, my car will be under the knife and I didn’t sustain any sort of injuries. As for the deer, I never saw him after impact. I really hope it stays that way.

The worst thing about accidents is exactly that: they’re accidents. Despite lack of any control in a situation one is left to deal with the consequences. The deer was just living his life and there’s no sense in beating yourself up. So you’re just stuck there to handle the strain, both in your head and in your wallet.

There’s always a lesson to be learned in times of frustration. We aren’t always going to have control. Disasters come out of nowhere and we feel helpless as the things we love and work hard to maintain are broken. Everything looks and feels like it’s about to collapse. I’ve learned that those are not the times to be consumed by the stresses created in the moment. Don’t focus on what is lost, instead turn to what you have. For me in particular, I’m fortunate to have people in my life who are so quickly compassionate, especially in tough times. So in that moment of helplessness, hold onto those things and do what you can. You are going to hit the deer and then life is going to continue.

Now if you excuse me, I’m going to see if I can’t find me some deer jerky. That should even the score a bit.